Qrow Branwen is a bad luck charm (scareqrow) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2017-07-10 16:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, ozpin, qrow branwen |
Who: Qrow and Ozpin
What: side-eyeing each other across the cafe
When: Mid June (prior to Oz joining the network)
Where: Emerald City Cafe
Rating/Warnings Low
Status: Complete!
Qrow had been up early this morning reviewing term papers for the end of the semester. He still had a few classes left, all of which were wrapping up. Some of his students were struggling, either with getting their grades up or to not succumb to the pull of summer break.
It was hard to blame them. The sun was out, the air was warm, the sky was clear and the beaches were starting to fill up with families and tourists. Qrow would have been lying if he said that it wasn’t tempting to simply fuck off for a day, especially with the hangover headache he was currently nursing. He had no one to blame for that than himself, however, and so was standing in line at one of Orange County’s many coffee shops in hopes that something strong and black would take the hairy edge off so that he could concentrate the rest of the morning enough to get through his classes.
The woman in front of him placed her order, paid and stepped to the side to wait for her coffee (a latte something or other with organic whipped cream, or something). As Qrow himself was ordering, the woman’s piping hot drink was prepared. As it was being handed over to her, the barista’s hand slipped around the cup and it, as well as its contents dumped all over the counter and threatened to splash both customer and barista.
This morning, the majority of the workers of the coffee house were high school students, fresh from finals or graduation ceremonies. Young minds wrapping around the responsibility of a job, paying bills, and independent stability. Many would consider them too inexperienced or naive to hire for a full time job, but one of the benefits of owning a coffee shop was the ability to hire whomever he chose. Ozpin found that the students would work harder knowing that the odd man in the corner sipping coffee would support their decisions. Occasionally, however, even the most experienced barista needed a bit of help.
Ozpin had been in the middle of refilling his coffee behind the bar when he witnessed the unfortunate series of events. Oh, dear. The drink was quickly spreading across the counter and the poor barista was mortified into inaction. He had to think quickly. Grabbing a towel for each hand, Ozpin poured a bit of milk into his coffee and stepped up in front of the poor barista. “Oh my, what a mess. Well. We can’t have that, now can we?”
A large green towel was flourished across the counter, covering it as the wiped up the spilled coffee and grabbed the cup. In the blink of an eye, the towel was removed to reveal a clean counter and a fresh, steaming cup of coffee. One arm tucked away, Ozpin gave another flourish as he topped the cup with whipped cream. “There. Much better.” He gave the woman a placating smile as he handed her the drink, keeping her attention on his face and not looking for the dripping towel and nearly-empty cup hidden behind his back. “Thank you for visiting. Please, come again soon.”
Qrow watched the quick display of sleight of hand with interest. The poor woman, who had some how managed to avoid getting splashed or dripped on, was so impressed by the trick that any ire she may have had towards the barista hadn’t even had the chance to form. She laughed and accepted the coffee handed to her, not even caring that it was not the no-fat organic whatever latte she had originally ordered. She thanked the man and left. Qrow watched her leave the shop over his shoulder. Then his eyes slid back towards the man with the quick hands and fast reflexes. Qrow had never seen him before but he swore that he knew him, but from where and how, he had no idea.
“Sir?”
Qrow turned back towards the girl behind the register. “Hm? Oh. Large coffee. Black.”
Ozpin watched the woman leave, waiting a beat before turning to dump the ruined coffee cup into the trash. That was one disaster averted today. With any luck, the woman wouldn’t mind the particularly strong blend he tended to favor. Melinda, the cashier, also seemed to have recovered nicely from the incident.
Now, he had a coffee to sip. This time, he grabbed a ceramic mug. Ozpin was not entirely surprised to find that the next customer had chosen to order plain coffee as well. The man he had watched in line had struck him as more of a night owl than a morning person. Well, perhaps not an owl, persay. Still, the man looked familiar. Perhaps it was the eyes. They looked as if he resented the sun itself for coming up too early. A repeat customer? Possible. It certainly would explain the familiarity.
Raising his mug in a toast to the man, Ozpin let his thoughts and considerations slip away. People watching was all well and good, but it wouldn’t be polite to stare. He picked up the metal-tipped cane leaning against the end of the bar and began making his way back to the far corner of the cafe. Another benefit of owning the shop was that he never had to worry about moving his ‘office’.
Short bookshelves lined most of the walls as an informal lend-and-leave library. Various board games and afghans also took up a couple of the shelves. Not that it ever really got cold in California, but the store had seen more snow than an Englishman had thought possible in the normally warm climate. Ozpin rested the cane on the wooden table that was both well-used and an antique in everything but name. It currently sported his laptop and a mountain of papers. True, most of his students submitted their work via email, but to him there was just something about the printed word that called to him.
Qrow nodded in return when the man raised his cup towards him. He then paid for his coffee (surprisingly well priced for a place that also sold trendy drinks that sounded more like desserts than coffee) and stepped out of the way.
He waited for one of the baristas to pour his coffee and hand it to him (hopefully without incident, but that would be like banking on a miracle), he couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew the spectacled man that had come out from behind the coffee bar. Qrow looked over his shoulder again. The man had appeared to be in charge, maybe even the owner, but seated back at his well-worn table, he looked more like a, well, a teacher with a laptop surrounded by stacks of paper. Maybe that was why Qrow recognized him. Maybe they’d passed each other on campus. There were a lot of schools in Orange County, it was possible this guy had been a visiting professor to UC:Irvine in the recent past. That was the explanation that made the most sense and yet, it felt completely wrong.
“Branwen?”
Qrow’s attention was pulled back to the coffee bar and the barista holding his plain (and hopefully strong) large coffee. “That’s mine,” he said, reaching for the coffee cup. No slip of the hand this time, and the girl looked almost relieved. Qrow felt a little bad for her, but pulled back the apology before it escaped. She wouldn’t even know what he was apologizing for, and any attempt to explain would have eaten into her valuable time. “Thank you,” he nodded, digging into his pocket for a few dollars to give as an extra tip.
Coffee in hand, Qrow adjusted the messenger bag containing the papers he’d been grading at home across his chest and glanced at his watch. He had a while yet before his first class started. He figured it was best to drink his coffee here. He could get another to go, maybe, if he needed it.
He carefully made his way towards one of the tables near the back and out of the way. He cast another glance towards the man with the cane before taking a seat.
Leaning back in his chair, Ozpin sipped from the mug. Coffee was always just the thing he needed to sort out his thoughts. Although the school year had ended for his high school classes, a few of his college courses were just beginning. He had a stack of files on one side of the table of possible syllabi for the summer session. Those would need to be attended to soon enough. Right now he was focusing on the rich, bitter taste of the coffee in his cup.
That, and the man who was sitting across the cafe.
Ozpin was not quite staring, but he found himself watching the familiar stranger out of the corner of his eye. It seemed unlikely that the magic trick had been the catalyst, but he could think of no other reason for the additional familiarity. Unless the night owl also found him oddly familiar. He finally looked directly at the man. No, he was definitely not an owl. In fact, the man almost reminded him of a- ’a dusty old crow.’ Yes. That fit much better.
Qrow wouldn’t have appreciated being called a dusty old anything. He was in the prime of his life, thank you very much. He could still hold his own in a brawl and even best those ten or twenty years younger than him. He may not have been a professional fighter like his sister or pseudo brother-in-law, but he was pretty damn good. Put a weapon in his hands and he was even better. He could also out drink just about anyone who dared challenge him. He was less proud of that, unless money was on the table.
Qrow wouldn’t have appreciated the reference to his namesake either. The only thing his parents had ever given him was a name in reference to an old superstition and one that Qrow was already reminded of every day in some form or another.
The coffee in the cup was black and it was strong, bitter and hit the back of Qrow’s throat like acid, but it was exactly what he needed. Already he could feel the edge of the headache behind his eyes starting to ebb. Hopefully by the time he arrived on campus he wouldn’t be dragging himself to class.
His attention wandered around the coffee shop. Most of the more trendy places he’d been in offered a facade of comfort and a place to sit and do work or read, but the chairs were always uncomfortable and the books plucked from the New York Times bestseller list, over priced and god forbid if you happened to accidentally wander off with one. This place was different. It felt as though the owner actually wanted his customers to sit a spell, relax, have a cup of whatever, read a book or play a game. Sit and get cozy. It was nice, but it was also a little weird.
And speaking of the owner...Qrow’s eyes wandered back over to the man with the cane and sat up a little straighter when he saw him looking directly at him. Their eyes met and locked. For a few moments Qrow just stared at him, a feeling of having done this before tugging at the back of his mind like deja vu. Finally he narrowed his eyes. They could play this game of Don’t Blink all morning, but Qrow had classes to get to and papers to grade.
Oh, what the hell? Finally Qrow picked himself up from his seat and crossed the cafe. He stopped at the other man’s table and looked down at him, eyes still narrowed, but more in indecisive thought than guarded hostility. “I know you,” he said cautiously, his voice deep and gravelly.
Back behind the wooden desk, Ozpin sipped from his mug. Hmmmm. Apparently the strange and familiar man had decided to come and see him directly. Now that he was paying attention, Oz could see the obvious signs of a lingering hangover. He himself had gone through many of those when he was still, as they say, young and foolish. It had been years since he had allowed himself to indulge like that, however.
Oz was well aware that he had been staring as his mind worked to connect the faint dots of memory. Sadly, by the time the familiar stranger had arrived at his desk, he was no closer to an answer than he had been when he had sat down. At the man’s announcement, Ozpin spread his hands, welcoming the discussion. “I would say I have one of those faces, but you don’t look to be the type that would forget a face.”
“Not usually,” Qrow answered. The man’s voice made Qrow think he should recognize it, but just like his face, Qrow couldn’t bring anything precise to mind. He was starting to wonder if maybe it was someone he’d run across (or had run across him) in his younger days. This thought put him a little on edge. He and Raven had made their fair share of enemies in their youths. Qrow had been somewhat more successful than Raven had in getting his life together and turning himself into a productive member of society. It had taken him a while to go completely straight and his departure from the criminal underworld, not to mention his “tribe”, had not pleased everyone. The last thing he needed right at that moment was some kind of blast from the past.
Closer inspection of the man in front of him now, though, and Qrow quickly put those ideas to the back of his mind, though not complete to rest. The other man didn’t deny that Qrow knew him, but he hadn’t confirmed it either. That was puzzling and annoying. “Do you know me?” He asked quizzically. There was a part of him that hoped the man said “yes” and he could tell Qrow where they’d met. A committee meeting, on campus, maybe they got their take-out at the same place, hell even if they’d seen each other at a bar, anything to get this nagging feeling to go away.
Ozpin considered the question. The man did look familiar, but even upon closer inspection he was unable to place him. A former student? “Perhaps. I have gotten to know a great many people by simply sitting in a cafe.” He rarely communicated with his students face-to-face these days, but the man looked to be old enough to have been in one of his early classes that had been telecasted.
One hand waved at one of the chairs across the table. “Would you care to take a seat?” If the man was one of his former students, it would be nice to see what he had done after the class had finished. “My name is Oscar Diggs. You can call me Oz.”
Qrow glanced at the seat. He had a few minutes still before his first class started, so he sat down and set his coffee cup on the table. “Oscar,” he said the name carefully, mulled it over in his mind waiting for a trigger of some kind. Of a memory. “Oz.” Like the wizard? No. The name was more familiar than a character from an old movie Qrow hadn’t seen since he’d been a kid. Like...he knew it. He just didn’t know how.
He’d been in the cafe a few times before. Quick in and out in the morning for black coffee, or between classes to keep a hangover at bay. He must have heard the name in passing. Yeah. That had to be it….
“Qrow Branwen,” he introduced himself. At least he wasn’t the only one sitting at the table with a unique name for a change.
Ozpin barely stopped his eyebrows from raising in surprise. Apparently his earlier thought about the crow had been a bit more apt than he had initially thought. Not that he was about to say such a thing to his new acquaintance. That would definitely not set a very good tone for their first meeting. Besides which, it had felt altogether strange to hear this man call him Oscar, but other than the fact that Ozpin himself rarely used the name anymore, he could not figure out why. Perhaps this man held the key. It would certainly be worth it to find out.
“It’s nice meet you, Mr. Branwen. I trust you are enjoying the coffee.” Ozpin indicated the man’s mug sitting on the table. From the color and aroma coming from that direction he could tell that Qrow had selected one of his favorite blends. It was also a particularly strong blend. He took a sip of his own brew to refresh his palate. Based on the man’s bag, it was obvious he was either a local or had a job that kept him within the city. “Do you often pass this way on your daily commute?”
It was only when Oz mentioned the coffee that Qrow even remembered that he had it and the reason why he’d ordered it in the first place. “Oh. Yeah. I am. It wakes me up.”
And because he had remembered his coffee, he took a sip of it. It was already starting to cool off, but it still packed the punch Qrow was looking for to chase his headache and hangover away. That was all he was really after this morning anyway. He hadn’t asked for the added side of deja vu. It seemed as though he was stuck with it now. Even sitting here talking with Oz wasn’t chasing it away.
“Sometimes I do,” he said next with a shrug. He wasn’t a regular or anything like that. If he had been that would have easier explained why Oz looked so damned familiar. Qrow wasn’t really the type of person to fall into routine habits. He got bored that way and a bored Qrow was good for no one, least of all himself.
He glanced at his watch and said something under his breath that was inaudible, but was definitely a swear in some language. Time had gotten away from him and his first class would be starting soon. Not that he expected to get much done other than pass back the term papers in his bag, but he should at least try to be on time. “I’m sorry, I have to go, or else I’m going to be late.” he said as he got to his feet. “Students have a bad habit of not waiting the full fifteen minutes for the fifteen minute rule…” he paused a moment, looking down at Oz. He had no idea what possessed him to say what he did next, but he heard himself saying the words before they had even fully formed in his head, “I’ll see you soon.”
Nodding, Ozpin sipped once again at his coffee. It was strange to feel both as if he knew the man and had never seen him a day in his life at the same time. It was a funny feeling that he had felt only once or twice in his lifetime. For whatever reason, he had very rarely fallen into the net of deja vu, but there was something about this man, this Qrow, that compounded it all. It was fascinating, really. Surely there had to be a reason for it. As familiar as the messy hair and red eyes were - certainly an unusual combination, to be sure - the exact time and place Oz had seen either simply slipped through the fingers of his memory.
Ozpin shook his head. Never mind. It probably didn’t matter anyway. It would be a far better use of both of their time to focus on the here and now. Qrow certainly seemed to be interesting enough on his own to merit at least a long chat. He had so few acquaintances he considered friends these days. Adding one to that paltry number would certainly not hurt.
However, that chat, it seemed, was not meant to be. Ozpin tilted his head, giving the man a knowing look. “I’ve always found that fifteen minute rule to be more of a guideline as well.” He nodded, rising as well to see the man off, even if he never left his side of the table. The announcement of a future meeting did not seem out of place at all. Especially for someone with such a steady presence at the cafe as its owner. Ozpin nodded his head and toasted his fellow teacher with a small smile. “I look forward to it., Mr. Branwen.”